


Data Collection

by borrowedphrases



Series: The Scientific Method [2]
Category: Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: Blood, M/M, Scratching, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:26:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/pseuds/borrowedphrases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kouta is a relatively cooperative test subject.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Data Collection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverWind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWind/gifts).



> Direct continuation of a double drabble I wrote recently. Specifically for Aneki's birthday, since after I posted that double drabble her response was something like "SIMON I NEED MORE"
> 
> So... here's more. XD;
> 
> Happy birthday Aneki~

"There's a good boy." Ryouma soothes as his hand slides beneath the blanket, his fingers turned downward, seeking, searching for the waistband of the boy's boxer briefs. The muscles of Kouta's lower abdomen tremble and tense beneath his touch, but he doesn't make a sound, as he was instructed.

Ryouma's fingertips find the waistband, and he runs the pad of his index finger along the elastic, enjoy the slight texture before venturing further. He has time right now to indulge. Takatora and Youko both think he's resting, and won't be calling after him for hours, not unless there is a seriously dire emergency.

Kouta's breath hitches slightly when Ryouma's hand moves past the waistband, slides down to cup him through the cotton. Ryouma looks back up at him, a half smile on his lips, as he presses his palm firmly against the shape of his dick.

"Still soft?" Ryouma pouts, though the expression doesn't reach his eyes. His gaze is wide, slightly manic, and there is a threat still lingering there. _Don't make a sound_. "Won't you harden for me, Kouta-kun?"

Kouta is still biting his lip and, for his part, he doesn't speak. He does shake his head, however, and that won't do. No that won't do at _all_. Ryouma's free hand moves to Kouta's chest, his palm gliding along his sternum. And then he drags one sharp nail diagonal across one of his nipples.

Kouta jerks sharply, a whining growl escaping through his nose. There's sudden extra moisture in his eyes, and he grabs at the sheet beneath him, turning his face to look away from Ryouma.

Ryouma is disappointed his nail didn't break the skin, though there is now a fine pink line there, and his nipple has perked up nicely. He could scold the boy again, for the sound he just made, but he's at least _trying_ to be good, so Ryouma will let this one slide.

"Now then," Ryouma rolls the heel of his palm against Kouta's still flaccid dick, delighted at the flush that begins to creep into the boy's complexion. He's not really a boy - not physically, not legally - but in so many ways, naively endearing ways, he is still just a child, just barely scratching at adulthood.

Ryouma drags one nail lightly along the length of Kouta's dick, catching a bit in the fabric covering it. He feels the warmth there increasing, and he knows he's having an effect on Kouta's anatomy. He shifts his hand, finds the fly of his boxer briefs, and slides his hand inside.

Kouta's eyes widen when Ryouma's hand touches him in the flesh, the panic in his gaze a delightful contrast to darkening color of his cheeks. He grips harder to the sheets, with both hands now, and meets Ryouma's eyes. He doesn't speak, but he mouths a word, very slowly, making sure it's understood.

"Why?" Ryouma's echos the unspoken word, his hand dipping a bit lower, slipping beneath Kouta's dick. He rolls boy's balls between his fingers as he watches him fight not to squirm. He can feel Kouta hardening, his dick gradually lifting off the back of his hand. Slowly, oh so slowly, beginning to strain against the confines of his underwear. 

"Why..." Ryouma hums thoughtfully, shifting his hand again, this time wrapping his fingers around the lengthening shaft. He sighs, and leans back a bit, his focus on the wall beside the bed. "That's a very good question, Kouta-kun."

Kouta's breathing has begun to quicken, as his dick continues to harden in Ryouma's grip. He's just barely stroking him now. Light, gliding, coaxing motions. All lazy and idle, almost as if he's bored.

Ryouma squeezes with his hand very suddenly, possibly too hard, hard enough to cause as much pain as pleasure, especially when his nails dig slightly into the shaft. Kouta's back arches off the bed, his hips pulling backwards, as if he could drag them through the bed and away from Ryouma's touch. Ryouma stills him firmly with a hand pressed hard against the place just beneath his ribs, almost pushing the breath from him.

Kouta exhales, and goes very still, and Ryouma smiles. He begins working him with his hand again. Smooth, even strokes, twisting his hand here and there, until Kouta's dick is fully hard and obviously aching, based on the look on Kouta's face, and the slickness Ryouma feels when his thumb brushes across the tip.

Ryouma leans forward, leans over him, the ends of his bangs brushing lightly against Kouta's cheek. Kouta is shaking, his knuckles gone white from how tightly he's gripping the sheets, his legs writhing slightly under the blanket, twisting it up around his ankles.

"Because you _fascinate_ me, Kouta-kun."

Ryouma presses his lips to Kouta's, and is met with only momentary resistance before Kouta's mouth opens to him. Ryouma rolls his tongue into Kouta's mouth, his free hand moving to the back of Kouta's head, gripping at his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. Their eyes remain open as he kisses him; Ryouma's gaze is staring, Kouta's wide and searching.

It's not long before the boy's bucking uncontrollably into his grip, whimpering oh so softly into the increasingly more aggressive kisses Ryouma gives him. At some point his bottom lip splits, and Ryouma chides himself; he really doesn't have any data on his own strength. At least he knows the boy's blood is free of illness, so he can enjoy the taste of it without concern.

Kouta's eyes close, and Ryouma stops their kissing suddenly, stops the stroking twisting motions of his hand.

He slaps him across one cheek.

" _Don't_." He rests his hand gently against the red marks he left there, his voice going from commanding to soothing. "Don't close your eyes, Kouta-kun. Don't go to someone else."

Kouta nods quickly, his hands finally releasing the sheet, instead raising to grip at Ryouma's consultation coat. His lips are parted, and he lift his chin a bit, silently pleading for Ryouma to kiss him again. His hips move as well, just slightly, working his dick in Ryouma's hand.

Ryouma kisses him again, his hand picking up where he left off. He works him hard, with a brutal rhythm, and keeps their gazes locked.

The boy groans into Ryouma's mouth, hands gripping so tight to the lab coat that they almost tear the fabric, when he reaches his climax, when he spills his seed over the back of Ryouma's hand. He's well behaved, he keeps his eyes open for the duration of his orgasm, keeps himself with Ryouma as the waves of pleasure roll through him.

Ryouma breaks the kiss, allows the boy time to catch his breath, and then removes his hand from Kouta's soiled boxer briefs. He pats Kouta's cheek with his clean hand, and smiles sweetly down at him.

"Good boy."

Ryouma stands from the bed. He fishes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his hand off on it with a look of mild distaste. He leaves the cell without a word, without a backward glance.

He has work to do.


End file.
